My husband
by DarkPheonix 666
Summary: Germany never thought he could feel happiness with anyone, thus he simply lived with the mindset of a soldier. Never allowing himself to feel or lose focus of his work. That was until he met Italy, and his world was forever changed. Gerita, Yaoi, fluff, feels, *Oneshot*, Germany x North Italy, (No sex)


**Some Gerita fluff of their wedding night**

 **Lets not forget that adorable ring scene from beautiful world people**

 **Please follow, favourite and review**

Germany laid in bed silently, his chest rising and falling as he allowed his mind to wonder. His cross around his neck, his body shiny with sweat, his mind hazy in the aftermath of what happened. His body was wrapped tightly in the bed sheets of their room. He felt weak, hazy and yet happier than he had in a long time. He had never felt this way about anyone in his entire existence.

Like he said before, "I may treat you badly as I have never had friends before". He had spent so long isolated and having never known friendship or human contact, that meeting someone as lovable and friendly as Italy was a surprise to him. But over time, he softened and came to love Italy, adapting to his odd quirks and innocence.

Italy was not as daft as he came across, in fact at times he could be really smart. However, he tended to prefer living in a positive mindset, always seeing the best in others no matter what. However, this often tended to act as his Achilles heel, that because of his kindness it often allowed others to take advantage of him instead.

But he was resilient, Germany would give him that. Even before he had come to meet Italy, he had suffered greatly. The loss of his grandpa Rome, his first love whom had perished. The strained relationship with his older brother Lovino, despite how happy he always acted. There was no way that Italy wouldn't have been affected by these experiences.

As for said person. Italy was curled up in the bed beside him, fast asleep and lost to the wonder of his dreams. One of his many personality traits was that he enjoyed a siesta more than he loved pasta. A happy smile on his face, humming every now and again. He looked as cute as ever when he was asleep. Making it hard for anyone to feel angry around him.

Germany smiled fondly as he gazed fondly upon Italy as he slept beside him. Feeling a sense of comfort that he had never felt before. Every time he gazed into those brown eyes he felt his heart flutter. Slowly over time, he had succumb to Italy's charms and realized he had a sense of affection for the Italian. One that eventually blossomed into love.

Italy was a playful, innocent, sweet and often clumsy young man. But he had a kind heart, was naturally creative and optimistic no matter what came his way. To have such a partner made him happy. He tried hard at no matter what he did, he was a hard worker even if he sometimes failed at what he did. More than that he was helpful, always willing to do whatever he could to be of use to Germany.

Even if he was bad in battle, he really did try hard at what he did. Putting all of his effort into it, despite sometimes failing miserably. Even if he could be cowardly at times, he was loyal to his teammates and always coming up with ideas. But despite appearances, he was stronger than he appeared. Such as when Turkey revealed Italy had once kicked his butt in battle.

There were many things he still didn't know about Italy, but he figured over time he would eventually learn about them. Germany sighed softly, his eyes softening as he gazed upon his husband quietly. He had never known what it was like to have friends before or feel love like he did for Italy. This was a completely new feeling to him.

Everyone had been scared of him before, because of his tough exterior and serious business method. The only person who knew of his true personality was his older brother who liked to tease him about it often. Though he would never say it openly, he had in fact been lonely for a very long time. Though he had simply hidden it and carried on with his duties.

Though he did get scared of his temper occasionally, aware of what Germany was capable of. Italy trusted him with his heart and soul, never running away no matter what they got into. When times were rough or sadness overcame them, Italy would act as entertainment in the situation. Such as singing or stargazing, sometimes even telling stories.

Italy then nuzzled up tighter into a ball, burying his nose into the sheets. "Germany" he muttered sleepily. From what Germany could tell, he must have been dreaming about him. He had to say, this was the first time he had heard Italy dream about anything aside from food. It was a nice change but at the same time, he was really embarrassed about it.

Germany then turned over to face his partner quietly, a fond smile on his face. Though he was probably a masochist, he enjoyed watching Italy sleep. Feeling a desire to tease him. While his whining had annoyed him at first, something about Italy crying in a situation like this didn't seem too unappealing for him. Though he may have to ask Italy about this first.

He reached out gently to stroke Italy's hair affectionately, however was careful not to grab his curl knowing the effect it would have. Knowing how sensitive it was to the Italian nation. He then leaned forward, closing the gap between himself and his new husband. Placing a gentle kiss on his partners lips, showing his love for the Italian even as he slept soundly beside him.

His heart swelling with the love and happiness he felt in that his often obnoxious aura, France was right about one thing. Love was truly the most beautiful and wonderful feeling in the world. Though he had made many new allies over the centuries, none of them meant as much to him as Italy did. That much he was certain of.

He then laid beside Italy, stroking his cheek as he gazed upon his face affectionately. "Ich liebe dich, Italy" he whispered fondly. He had never felt like this about anyone, never knowing that love could make him peaceful. He had watched his citizens or other nations experience it, but having never found such a thing for himself before.

Italy then laughed in his sleep, his usual dorky smile spreading across his face. He then nuzzled up to Germany lovingly, his smile still spread across his face. Like a small kitten seeking warmth from the cold. Despite being a grown man as well as a nation, Italy was capable of acting like a small child sometimes. Though Germany did wonder if this was a coping mechanism he had used through all the grief he had experienced over the centuries.

What was the saying? The loneliest people were the kindest, The saddest people smile the brightest and the most damaged people were the wisest. Italy had lost loved ones and been separated from people closest to him, so of course after being alone for so long he would crave affection. He always smiled so people never knew his true feelings, and he had so much knowledge because he had learned from his experiences.

He then wrapped his arm around Italy protectively, placing his forehead close to Italy's. Slowly closing his eyes and allowing sleep to take him. Falling into a state of pleasant dreams. The rings on their fingers glowing brightly in the low light of the room. This man was now his husband, they were married and on a honeymoon in Italy. He doubted he could be any happier than he was in this moment.

Because now they belonged to each other, in body, soul and writing. This man, was forever his beloved. So they would never be alone, ever again.


End file.
